


Two Bards and one Witcher

by LadyAhiru



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Fae!Jaskier, Feral!Jaskier, Jaskier stakes his claim, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Possesive! Jaskier, Valdo gets murderd, creature!Jaskier, first time (ish), non explicit smut, top!Jaskier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:41:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23580253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAhiru/pseuds/LadyAhiru
Summary: Jaskier stakes his claim when he finds Geralt travelling with Valdo Marx.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 34
Kudos: 295





	Two Bards and one Witcher

**Author's Note:**

> Oh gosh, this was a Tumblr Fic I wrote a month ago but never posted here^^

Geralt pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance and pushed his heels into Roache's flanks, urging her on, trying to leave the biggest regret of his life behind. If he ever was so lucky to travel with Jaskier again he would NEVER dare to complain about his singing or ranting again, because compared to the constant irritation that was Valdo Marx, Jaskiers voice was like the choir of Angels.

The whole situation was Jaskiers fault though and Geralt wished nothing more than to turn back time to resolve the circumstances. It had started with a cold rainy night, he had invited Jaskier, who had been shaking with cold, onto his bedroll to share his body heat and all had been good, his bard smelling warm and content and they had been talking about something and suddenly they were shouting and fighting and Jaskier had been angry with him for some reason but even though the bard had said many, many words that night he didn’t say anything that made sense to the Witcher.

It ended with Jaskier screaming at him, proclaiming that he would just find another Witcher to get stories from and making lewd comments about perusing Eskel into companionship. Geralt had been so hurt at the comment, the near thought of Jaskier with one of his brothers, let alone bedding him made him see red so he had ridden as fast as he could to Oxenfurt and had asked Valdo Marx to travel with him as his bard, a decision that came to bite him in the ass shortly after.

Valdo must be part fiend because his mare existence made Geralts sword hand itch. He was vain, snobby and his singing was bad and uncreative and Geralt only had himself to blame. It had been nearly two months since he had last seen _his_ bard and the heavy knot in his stomach only grew with each passing day. If the gods could grant him only one blessing it would be to take Valdo off his hands and bring Jaskier back into his life.

They are in the middle of nowhere an earthen path between two unnamed towns, not big enough to be called road when he sees him or rather smells him first. He stares ahead trying his best to blend Valdo’s babbling out when it hits his nose, Buttercups, Parchment and Ink and it is so intense that Geralt has to stop Roach and look. He spots his bard, who is dressed in a pale blue doublet and pants, and he stalks to them, like a man on a mission. His doublet is unbuttoned as it always is and Geralt can see his chest hair flashing through the open garment. Before he can say anything, or grunt in greeting Jaskier walks up to them, not looking at him, a small pet to Roache's neck his only greeting as the bard puts his stuff onto her saddlebags without even batting an eyelash.

“Well if it isn’t the lesser bard of Oxenfurt,” Valdo taunts with his unattractive nasal voice but halts when Jaskier just smiles at him. Then everything happens very fast. Geralt dismounts just as suddenly Jaskiers features turn sharp, his teeth longer, his eyes an unnatural shade of blue, his nails pointy like daggers and he jumps at Valdo and his voice sounds ethereal when he screams. “How dare you!” He grabs at the other man’s lute and the leather band that holds it snaps in two. “Don’t you fucking dare to sing about MY Witcher!” and he takes Valdo’s own Lute and smashes it brutally against the bards head, over and over and over again, blood splashing all over his doublet while he yells. “He is mine! I claimed him many winters ago! YOU CANNOT HAVE HIM!” And with broken Lute in hand, he kicks and scratches like a feral animal.

Geralt stands and stares, frozen in place at his bard and the broken Lute. When it is over Jaskiers heavy breathing fills the silence around him and he drops the ruined instrument onto Valdo’s lifeless body. He tries to fix his clothes but they are smeared with blood and Geralt had never wanted to kiss someone as badly in his life as he did Jaskier at that very moment. They don’t speak, they just stare at each other. Jaskiers features still pointy and sharp, his ears still showing his true heritage and his aura still feral and brutal. Geralts grabs at him and smashes their lips together, all teeth and tongue and almost no finesse. It is perfect.

Jaskier pushes his long fingers into his shoulders and presses him against the nearest tree, whining against his mouth. “Mine. My Witcher,” and Geralt can only nod, far too gone for words as he pulls on Jaskiers clothing like a man possessed. He lets Jaskier claim him right there against the tree, lets himself be bitten and scratched and bruised until he is covered into beautiful red and blue marks, his scent intertwined with Jaskiers so deep that not even another Witcher could tell them apart.

**Author's Note:**

> Toss a Comment to your Writer!  
> Find me on Tumblr and Twitter: @ladyahiru


End file.
